In Darkness
by Sealgirl
Summary: During Last of the Timelords. Jack struggles to keep going when there is no end in sight. Ten/Jack. SPOILERS for LotTL.


DISCLAIMER – All praise be to the ones who created Doctor Who, and the characters therein. They are not mine, sadly.

RATING –PG-13

SPOILERS – Minor ones for "The Last of the Timelords"

SUMMARY – (During Last of the Timelords) Jack struggles to keep going when there is no end in sight. Ten/Jack

A/N – This was inspired by Jack's line at the end - "I kept thinking about my team…" Bet he thought about other things as well!

* * *

In Darkness

_Jack._

_Jack…?_

_…No! No, please, no! Not again._

_…Please. Not again!_

_…No! NO!!_

_Jack._

Captain Jack's eyes flicked open as air rushed back into his lungs. He could feel the life coursing though him, the wild thump of his heart. He was alive. He was alive!

Again.

There was a moment of confusion, there always was, until Jack realised where he was and what had happened. He was still on the Valiant. Of course, he was still on the Valiant.

Nothing had changed. There was still no way out. His arms ached, stretched out as if he was being crucified. He couldn't move.

But at least this time, there was no one else around.

'Thank God,' he murmured. He hated waking up alive with the Master there waiting for him. Yes, he really, _really_ hated that! The smug, knowing look, the malicious gleam in the Master's eye; and the knowledge that there was absolutely nothing that he could do to stop him.

How long had it been since the Master had won? It was probably months, but he couldn't be sure as dying had a tendency to mess with your sense of time.

And how many times had he died? He wasn't sure about that either.

The Master had become pretty good at murder. Not quick, not clean, not efficient, not enjoyable (at least not for Jack, anyway). But he didn't like thinking back to the many and inventive ways that the Master had killed him, it only served to remind Jack of how helpless he was. He hated feeling helpless, unable to help himself. And he hated being alone.

A voice whispered a name in the back of his mind: _Torchwood_.

The other members of his team were out there somewhere. At least, he hoped they were. The human race had been decimated so it was probable that at least one of his team was dead.

He suppressed a shudder.

Which one? He couldn't bear to loose any of them. Iantro, Gwen, Owen, Tosh…

_No!_ he told himself. He couldn't give up on them. They wouldn't give up on him. Though they didn't know where he was, or what had happened to him, they wouldn't give up the search. He knew they wouldn't. So there was a chance one of them might come to help him.

There was always a chance. Some of them might come to help… _Torchwood_…

The thought was so delicious and inviting that Jack almost let himself sink into that fantasy. Almost.

But that was never going to happen. They didn't stand a chance against the Toclafane. He had to be realistic.

It was likely they were dead. The Master wouldn't be stupid enough to keep them alive.

Jack's head dropped forward and he leaned against the chains that held him. He closed his eyes. He had nothing to do now but wait for the Master to return and kill him again.

For the first time since the day he had been brought down here to the bowels of the ship, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He screwed his eyes tighter shut. How many more times was he going to go through this? Life, death and life again. There was no way out.

_Jack._

There was that whisper again, a lovely female voice; a soothing voice, like his ship back in the days before he knew the Doctor.

The Doctor.

The face and the body might be different but the man inside was still the same, and still as attractive as ever. The _Doctor_. The power of that word was such that Jack shuddered once more, but this time it he was at the mercy of another emotion. Now the voice in his head was whispering to him again. That name over and over, like a prayer or an incantation.

Doctor, Doctor… Doctor… His own lips moved, mimicking the word in his head. _Doctor. Please. Help me Doctor. Doctor._

'Jack.'

Jack's head snapped up and he opened his eyes. For a moment, he just stared.

The Doctor was there, standing right in front of him: The Doctor as he should be, not aged beyond all reason. He had on his scruffy brown suit and his trainers and he just stood there with his hands in his pockets, as if nothing bad had happened.

'Doctor!' Jack whispered.

The man grinned, and nodded.

'Hello, Captain Jack!' he said lightly.

Jack just stared. This couldn't be real. This was just some sort of trick by the Master. It had to be. He drew breath slowly, surveying the other man, waiting for the right moment. The silence stretched out between them, but the Doctor was unperturbed.

'You're looking good for an old man,' said Jack at last.

The Doctor dipped his head in acknowledgement.

'So are you,' he replied.

They watched at each other in silence again, and Jack was conscious of the effect that the Doctor's level stare had on him. Once again, as before, his body and soul yearned for contact and approval.

That man was beautiful, with the power and grace of a god, and was a man that Jack greatly admired. But that wasn't all, that could never be all for a man like Captain Jack Harkness; but he never wanted to love the Doctor, not in the same way he'd loved other men. The Doctor was beyond that, the Doctor was the one unattainable person in the whole universe, and the one person that Jack truly adored without reason or hope.

'I'm hallucinating, amn't I?' Jack said at last. 'Your not really here. I've gone mad.'

'That depends on your point of view,' said the Doctor. He took a few steps forward, and Jack snorted at the non-answer he'd been brushed off with.

It was clear. He'd gone mad. That was the only acceptable answer.

But the Doctor stepped right up to him, keeping eye contact the whole time, and stopped when they were only a few inches apart, so close that Jack could smell the familiar but alien scent of the TARDIS on his clothes. But Jack couldn't take his eyes off the other man. Then the Doctor reached up and lightly touched his cheek with such soft tenderness that Jack gasped.

'I know you're hurting, Jack,' he said in a whisper. 'I know it hurts every single time you die.' The hand didn't move. He could feel the warmth of the other man's skin, and his heart sped up. There was such comfort in that gesture, and such power resting underneath the humanoid exterior that Jack began to shake.

'You're here, you're really here!' he said as he understood the enormity of the gesture. The Doctor was here, he was free. He must have defeated the Master. He was here to free him!

'You're here, you can help, you can get me out of here!' Jack pulled futilely on the chains that held him. 'Damn it, Doctor, get me out of here!'

The look of the Doctor's face made him freeze.

'I'm sorry, Captain, I can't,' whispered the Doctor.

'Why not?' Jack demanded. 'You can't just leave me here.'

'I'm sorry, I can't get you out of here.'

'Why not? Is this some sort of game? Is the Master pulling the strings? What's going on?'

The Doctor glanced down to the ground, with a sad expression on his face.

'I can't get you out, Jack. I can't do anything. We have to wait.'

'Wait?' hissed Jack, suddenly furious. 'WAIT! That's fucking easy for you to say, safe up there on the deck, and not dying every other day!' The Doctor's expression remained the same. 'Every time different, every time more painful, every time…'

Jack stopped, shaking with a rage he had never felt before. He yanked on the chains, pulling himself as far forward as he could and snarled:

'Get me the fucking Hell out of here, Doctor!'

The Doctor didn't even react.

'Doctor!'

Jack had except some sort of reply or reprimand, instead the Doctor just watched him with those doleful, brown eyes, looking at him so intently that Jack suddenly felt a cold stab of fear. The Doctor had never looked at him like that before.

The two of them were frozen in time for a moment, and then the Doctor moved closer, never blinking, never looking away from Jack's face.

The Doctor moved closer.

Closer.

_Closer_.

Jack held his breath, only millimetres away from the Doctor. He could smell the warmth of his skin now, and it was the sweetest, most intoxicating aroma he had ever experienced, so alien but so unmistakably human as well. The Doctor reached up to cup his face tenderly, just as Jack had done to him on the Station.

And then the Doctor kissed him, letting their lips brush together.

Jack had anticipated this moment any number of times. But for all his knowledge and experience and vast imagination, it was nothing like he expected. It was so much better.

It was slow, as if time distorted around the Timelord, so each movement and sensation was amplified to the point where Jack could barely stand the pleasure; no kiss ever, before or afterwards would ever compare.

Their lips and tongues touched and explored in perfect unison, and the kiss spiralled out into eternity.

He swam in the sensations, drinking them in, pulling them close and savouring every moment as if this was the only point of existence in the Universe.

Perhaps he passed out; or the sensations and memories blended together so perfectly that he couldn't tell what was real and what was imagined.

But, eventually, Jack realised that it was over.

He had his eyes closed. He didn't dare open them to see that the Doctor had gone and he was alone again. He didn't want to be alone again, to face the oncoming storms all alone.

'Jack.'

The tone was urgent, and he forced himself to look, fearing in an instant that this was a trick of the Master's. But it was only the Doctor, still standing there.

Again, Jack pulled against his restraints, but only to try and make contact with that ephemeral man that stood pressed so close, but remained so untouchable.

The Doctor reached out once again. Jack shivered, anticipating the sensation before it happened. The Doctor seemed to reach through his shirt, to caress his skin, putting his hand tenderly on Jack's shoulder. Jack couldn't help himself and groaned in pleasure.

The Doctor's hand slipped across his chest and neck to his cheek, and the Doctor leaned forward to place the lightest of kisses on his lips.

'I'm sorry, Jack,' he whispered, almost too quietly and Jack found it difficult to make out the words. 'Our time together is almost over. I don't think I'll be able to do this again.'

Again, Jack gave a low, guttural groan. He had tasted the sensation that he had always craved and now he didn't want to give that up. He hated having to beg or plead, but there was no other way.

'Please, Doctor, don't go.'

'I can't stay.'

'Why?'

There was a definite hesitation before the Doctor spoke again. And Jack suddenly got the strong feeling that something was wrong.

'He's not here.'

Jack flinched, the confusion he had felt when he's first seen the Doctor rushing back at full force.

'It was the only think I could think of doing,' said the Doctor. 'I thought it would help. I didn't want you to be alone.'

'Who are you?' But the Doctor ignored the question.

'He knows you suffer,' said the Doctor. The voice had changed now as well. It was difficult to tell which incarnation in was from, this one, or the last one. And it was slightly higher, with almost a female overtone, almost like Rose. 'He knows how much this hurts and that, for you, there is no end in sight. But you have to hold on, Jack. He can't do this without your help.'

It looked like the Doctor. It talked like the Doctor. But something wasn't quite right.

'Who are you?' Jack asked again.

'I'm stuck here, just like you.'

'That's not an answer.'

'All three of us are trapped. He'll help you, and then you can help me.'

Jack stared at the man in front of him. It was perfect imitation, if it was an imitation. It _was_ the Doctor, it felt like the Doctor, it moved and acted and smelled and sounded like the Doctor. How had anyone managed to imitate him so well? No one could. No one…

'I know you love him,' said the Doctor. 'He knows you love him as well. He can't listen to _In The Mood_ without thinking about you.'

Jack stared in confusion at the man in front of him.

'Who are you?' Jack asked in a whisper. He didn't need to ask. He already knew. The man seemed to understand that as, at last, the Doctor smiled.

'Oh, Jack, you know who I am. And I've been in your head for a very, very long time now, ever since you first set foot on board.' The figure stepped back towards the darkness. 'Don't give up. Remember that I'm here, Jack. I'm still trying to help, but this is all I can do.' The Doctor smiled. 'Don't give up. He'll need you. And so do I.'

The next instant, Jack was alone again.

* * *

Somewhere close by, on the flight deck of the Valiant, an old man stirred from a dream. He smiled. It was a good dream, though he was vague about the details. 

It had given him hope, whatever it was. And he knew the source, as well. Perhaps that was the most satisfying part of the dream, he knew from whence it came.

He smiled more widely.

Abased and corrupted, she was still there, his faithful machine, and still trying to help them all.

She was still there, calling out to him, whispering to him in his sleep.

She was still there, helping him all she could.

She was still there, waiting for him.

She was still there.

_She_ was still there.

And now, all they could do was wait for Martha to return.

* * *

The End


End file.
